Ms. Delany’s lips twitched. “Enjoy yourself, dear.”
“I have every intention of doing just that.” I wiggled my brows and left the office.
Chapter 18
I made a phone call to my psychic-ghost-talking sister, Faith, and asked if she could clear her schedule and explained the favor I needed. She was the one who most resembled me. My other sisters were blondes with blue eyes, and Faith and I were the opposite, dark brown hair with green eyes.
I pulled up in front of her house and glanced in the rearview mirror, surprised to discover the vehicle I’d lost ten miles back had caught up with me again. The fact that he was on my sister’s street and down the road confirmed my suspicion without having to look underneath the car and give up the illusion that I was a clueless ninny.
The door opened as soon as I reached Faith’s porch. My sister ushered me inside. When the door was closed, she moved to the curtain, and I had to stop her from looking outside.
“Is he following you?”
“Yeah, he’s got a tracker on the car. I confirmed it when I lost him in town and he picked me up again right before I got here.”
Faith clapped her hands together. “This will be so much fun.”
Faith had clothes ready for me to change into. Clothes similar to what she’d been wearing—a big flowery skirt I’d normally never be caught dead wearing, along with a tight tank top and a silky scarf to hang over my shoulders.
I didn’t dress like this. Ever. Where Faith was a flower child at heart, I enjoyed dressing more casually. A good pair of jeans and a gun with a holster and I’d be good to go. I headed into the bathroom to change, but I kept my gun tucking it into the skirt’s waistband.
I walked out and tossed her the clothes I’d worn. “Are you sure you can do this?”
“All I have to do is drive a couple hours from here and spend the day shopping. I might eat dinner at a restaurant and spend the night at a hotel. That should keep this guy busy for a while until he realizes what we’ve done.”
Faith disappeared into the bathroom and changed into my clothes. When she emerged, one look and I knew we could pull this off. I tossed her my keys. “My purse is in the car, along with my credit cards should they be tracking my accounts.”
“My stuff is on the kitchen table if you need it. There’s an envelope of cash.”
“Cash? No one uses cash anymore.”
“I require it in my line of work.”
I could only imagine what Max would say if he were here. I doubt anything I could do would surprise him. The thought made me grin.
“I need to know who’s tracking me. Is everything else good to go?”
“Miss Wilma has probably already memorized the license plate number. She’ll pop over as soon as I leave.”
“You ever want to give up the psychic thing, you can make a career at FDG.”
“Heck no, I don’t want to be a spy. I enjoy talking to the ghosts, most of the time.”
“Only most of the time?”
She shrugged.
I peered between the curtains without moving them from their place. The car down the road was still there, the outline of a man inside. “Are you ready?”
“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got this,” Faith said as she headed for the door.
I stayed out of sight and watched from the peephole as she crossed the street. She didn’t even look toward the trailing car. She kept her face angled away from him so all he saw was a woman who looked like me, same haircut, same clothes. We were about to find out how good the guy really was.
She turned the ignition, revved the engine, glanced once more in my direction, and then took off down the road. I grinned and watched as the car zoomed down the street trying to catch her. “Not observant at all. I guess that answers that question.”
I chuckled and grabbed the money off my sister’s table just as the doorbell rang. I peeked out the curtains to find Miss Wilma already waiting nervously on the porch. She had her poodle clutched beneath her arm and was wearing a purple jogging outfit with a wide-brimmed hat.
I pulled the door open. “You’re fast.”
Miss Wilma hurried inside and shut the door behind her as if someone was watching her. “Your sister never asks me for help, so I was surprised when she did. I was more surprised to find out it involved you. It’s not like you to bring danger to our neighborhood. Especially to Faith’s house.”
I lifted my brow. “Is that what you think I did?”
“Well, yeah, that man is now following that poor girl. What if he catches her? What if he gets mad that he got duped? She doesn’t know how to defend herself.”
This Wilma had never seen my sister in action before. If she had been, she’d know that my sister wasn’t in danger. Not from the likes of a tail. One of the many ghosts that had haunted her was a spy from the 1940s. He’d advised her how to get out of any jam, and if he didn’t, then the dead actress would. If anybody was in danger, it was the person following her.
“I promise you she’ll be okay.”
Miss Wilma handed me a slip of paper. I opened it to reveal the license number, along with the physical description of the guy sitting in the car. “Did you get a close look at the guy?”
“Oh yes, dear, I took Rinaldo on a walk. He gets excited when I pull out the leash. Honestly, he’d rather be outside chasing the kids.” Rinaldo was the poodle that liked to yap at just about anything that moved.
“Miss Wilma, please.”
“Yes, honey, I got a really good look at him.”
“If I showed you a picture of the guy, would you recognize him?”
“Oh yes, dear,” she answered.
I pulled out my phone and pulled up the picture of Fillpot and turned to face her. “Is this the guy?”
“Yes, dear, but if you already know who he is, why did you need our help?”
If I’d known who was following me, I would have stopped him and asked him what the hell he was up to, but Wilma didn’t need to know that. “Thanks for the license plate number. I’ll take it from here.”
I opened a drawer on the little table by the door and rooted around for Faith’s car keys, with no luck. I grabbed my sister’s purse and pulled out her tarot cards and her crystals and checked every available nook and cranny. No keys.
Had she left me stranded?
“If you’re looking for her keys, honey, you won’t find them in the house. She keeps them in that old heap.”
Only my sister would keep her keys in the car without worry about it getting stolen. Only my sister would think leaving the keys in the car was a good idea. “Thanks, Miss Wilma. I’m going to have to break her of that.”
“Why is that, dear?”
“Somebody could steal it,” I said as I ushered Miss Wilma to the door and outside in search of my sister’s car.
“Oh, nobody can steal it, dear. She keeps it locked up in the shed. The thief would need a combination to get in.”
I glanced at the shed door and the metal lock on the latch. A thief wouldn’t need to work hard to get to the truck. A simple bolt cutter would do the job. I kept my comments to myself.
“Did she at least tell you the combination?” Wilma asked as she headed up the walkway.
“I’m sure it’s the same lock she used ten years ago on her school locker.”
And I was right. I opened the lock and the shed doors. A rusted, beat-up old truck, with spots of Bondo holding it together, sat in the space. I was going to be lucky if this thing even ran still. I’d tried for years to talk her into getting a new automobile. It didn’t have to be something new, just something new to her, something that wasn’t held together with rust and primer. I couldn’t complain, not after what she was doing for me by leading Fillpot away.
I slid behind the wheel and found the keys already in the ignition. I shook my head and fought the urge to call and have a stern talk about what security meant. It took three tries before the truck engine caught. I tensed at the sound of t
he muffler backfiring. There would be no sneaking around in this jalopy. I slammed the door shut and drove it out, only stopping long enough to lock the shed behind me and lock the front door.
I pulled up in front of Max’s house and turned off the truck. It sputtered black smoke out of the exhaust and shuddered before it turned off. Max stepped out onto his porch. He had his hands in his pocket, a dishtowel tossed over his shoulder. “I can’t pinpoint it, but there’s something different about you.”
I rolled my eyes. “How do you know this isn’t how I dress every day?”
His lips twisted as he tried to hide his smile.
“And you seem to have downgraded your car since the last time I saw you. That’s impressive, Gwen.”
“Shut up.” I stopped in front of him and stared up into his eyes. Those baby blues could make all my problems vanish with a single seductive stare. “I’m aggravated, I’m starved, and I’m hot. That hunk of junk doesn’t even have a working air conditioner. Make my day and tell me that we actually have intel to discuss and your insisting that I come here isn’t some elaborate plan to get me in bed.”
My pulse jumped at the thought. Maybe that was exactly what I needed after the day I’d had.
The smile broke free on his lips, and he ushered me inside. “I do have intel, but not until I feed you.”
“Food? You cooked? I thought you told me when we first met that you couldn’t cook. Was that a lie, Counselor?”
“I told you my mother’s chef tried to teach me the art of cooking. She only succeeded in teaching me one dish. I hope you’re hungry for Parmesan risotto with roasted shrimp. Dinner will be done in five minutes, and the wine is already breathing. After I dazzle you with the meal and share the information I have, then maybe you and I can spare a few minutes off the clock. Maybe.”
“Breaking your own rules already, Max? You and I both agreed that we don’t mix our personal and professional lives.”
Max led me inside and closed the door behind us. He took me into his arms and lowered his lips to mine in a kiss that made my legs weak. It wasn’t until I was clutching him closer that he broke the kiss. My heart raced as I tried to catch my breath.
“I changed my mind.” Max whispered.
Max
Chapter 19
Her teeth sank into her plush lower lip, and he knew that resisting was futile. Max pressed her against the door and lowered his head, claiming her lips. The kiss escalated quickly, and he felt like he was drowning in her scent and taste. Max wrapped his fingers in her silky strands and angled her head for a deeper kiss. He should have known Gwen wouldn’t let him take the lead for long. Her fingers grasped at his shirt, and with a loud rip, she shredded the front and sent buttons bouncing across the floor.
Her fingers danced tracing the lines over his warm stomach. It took everything he had not to take her hands and put them where he throbbed.
“You’re overdressed, Counselor,” she said.
Max grinned and released her long enough to undo his belt and drop his pants and boxers. Her heated gaze tracked his movements as she lifted the flowery skirt and slid out of her panties. She was so perfect, and he wanted to savor every inch of her, but right now, he needed her too badly. Max pulled his wallet from his pants and took out the condom he always carried. Ripping it open with his teeth, he rolled the latex down his shaft. Before he could even reach for her, Gwen wound her arms around his neck and jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist.
He stumbled and regained his stance, pressing her against the wall. His fingers dug into her. Gwen yanked the skirt out of the way and lowered herself onto his cock.
He groaned at how hot and tight she was and could do little but hold on as he pumped her hard and fast. She seemed every bit as desperate as he felt.
“God, Gwen. You’re so damn…”
“Shut up, Counselor. You’ll ruin the moment,” she growled and leaned in close, biting his lip.
He grinned and reached between their bodies. His thumb brushed across her clit, and it wasn’t long before she came, squeezing him so tight he thought he’d explode. Max gripped her hips and started thrusting deep and hard until he let out a guttural groan. His body shuddering from his release.
“Damn, Gwen. We should have done that long before now.”
He rested his head against hers and stared at the heat in her eyes. He couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his lips.
“Don’t get used to it, Counselor. This was just scratching an itch.”
“A long overdue scratch.” He pressed a tender kiss to her neck.
“Fillpot put a tracker on my car,” she said, catching him off guard.
“What? When? How did he find you?” he asked.
“Feed me, and I’ll tell you all about it.” She kissed him hard on the mouth before sliding down his body.
****
It was hard to reconcile the fact that she had her own issues going on, on top of trying to figure out who was behind the threats to his family. That guy Fillpot was going out of his way to track her and reach her, first taking her grandmother’s money to lure her to the island and now following her car. She’d deal with him in her own way, when this was all over with.
As much as he didn’t like it, he had to address the elephant in the room. “Are you going to be able to focus on the case with Fillpot still in the picture?”
Gwen held the wine glass to her lips and paused at Max’s words.
“Are you questioning my ability, Counselor?”
“I know you can get the job done, Gwen. I just worry that you might have your own issues now that need to be dealt with.”
“Fillpot is not my stalker. He’s like any other man. He needs something from me, and just because I have yet to give in doesn’t mean that I can’t handle him.”
Max nodded in acknowledgment. She was right. He remembered what it had taken to get her to take Amelia’s case. Gwen was beautiful, bright, and talented. Those were just a few of the words he’d used to describe her to his best friend and soon-to-be brother-in-law, Dexter Cline, only minutes before he promised not to turn on his charm and win her over, much less sleep with her. Her concentration might be the only thing keeping Petunia and Amelia alive. They shouldn’t have sealed the deal before dinner. They shouldn’t have sealed the deal at all, but now that he’d sampled her, knew her, he had every intention of having her again for a full course meal.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Counselor.”
He grinned. “How did you know what I was thinking?”
“Because I’m thinking the same thing.” She raised her brow in challenge. “So before either of us lose our determination, tell me what you found.”
“Paul Kilnery lives on the other side of town. His sister Rena took him in when he had to provide an address to his parole officer.” Max gestured to the kitchen with a nod of the head. “Petunia’s school information is in the kitchen. There is no Larry listed as an employee or teacher of any kind. I think that’s a dead end. What is interesting is that Petunia’s teacher, Edna Sinclair’s picture isn’t included in the school brochure and minimal background is given.”
Gwen swallowed her wine and licked her lips. “You think there’s something more there too?”
Max shrugged. “I’m not willing to leave any stone unturned when it comes to Petunia.”
Gwen rose from her seat and rounded the table. Max pushed his chair back to stand, and before he could, Gwen straddled his legs and sat on his lap. “You’re a good uncle.”
“Not half as good as I should be,” he said, kissing her neck. “If I were a good uncle, I wouldn’t have kissed you the first time.”
Gwen tilted her head, giving Max all the access he needed. Her fingernails dug into his arms, and he lifted his lap, pressing into her so she knew what was coming next.
He inched the tank top down for better access to her breasts. His lips trailed the path of his fingers until banging sounded at his door.
He paused and met
her gaze.
“You expecting anyone, Counselor?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Let me do the honors.” She climbed off his lap and grabbed a knife from the table before heading toward the door.
Gwen peeked out the peephole. “Looks like we have official visitors.”
She stepped back and put the knife on the foyer table as Max opened the door. “Can I help you?”
“Max Pierce, Gwen Bennett. I’m Agent Dent, and this is my partner, Agent Sutton. We’re with the U.S. Marshal’s service. We need both of you to come with us for questioning.”
“You do know I’m an attorney,” Max said.
They shared a look with each other. “Yes, Mr. Pierce, we know you’re an attorney, and Ms. Bennett is employed with FDG. This is a matter of national security.”
“Then why isn’t the NSA here?” Gwen asked.
Agent Dent held out a pair of handcuffs and dangled them from his fingers. “We can do this the hard way or the easy way. The choice is yours.”
“You should be thankful I choose the easy way. My sister would never forgive me if I ruined her skirt.” Gwen held up her hand and stepped out onto the porch. Max followed.
Two other women were being held by the SUV.
“Ms. Delany?” Gwen asked.
“You know them?” Max whispered.
“That’s my boss and one of FDG’s forensic analysts.” Gwen glanced at Agent Dent. “I don’t understand.”
“You will,” Agent Dent answered before ushering Max and Gwen in the back of the SUV, away from her boss.
Gwen
Chapter 20
The hard metal chair beneath my butt was cold with only the thin fabric of the flowery skirt as a barrier. There was a mirror on the wall—two-way—a chair on the other side of the table. Handcuffs pinching at my wrists. Why in hell was I sitting in an interrogation room waiting on the United States Marshals to come and question me?
Rotten Apple (Bennett Dynasty Book 1) Page 9
